


Colour Everywhere

by helsinkibaby



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:38:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She once traveled with a madman in an impossible blue box. Now she works with a madman with impossible blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colour Everywhere

**Author's Note:**

> I went a bit astray from the prompt....

"You're insane... completely insane."

The words fall unbidden from Molly's lips and the Doctor turns to her, gives her that grin that never fails to reassure and exasperate her in equal measure. "Never!" he tells her, placing extra emphasis on the first syllable. "Safe as houses." 

Molly feels her eyes widen as she watches him point his toe towards the stream of bright orange lava flowing past them. "In a contest between Converse and lava, I'm fairly sure lava would win actually."

"And you would be wrong!" He says the last with a triumphant note to his voice as he places his foot carefully (very carefully, she notes, no matter how confident he appears) on the liquid. Much to Molly's amazement, he does not erupt into flames, doesn't let his foot linger too long but when he pulls it back, there is the perfect imprint of the sole of his Converse trainer visible. "See, people think lava's a liquid, like water, but it's actually much more viscous... more like really thick custard. Mmmm... Custard. You know, I'm getting hungry, are you hungry?"

He begins to lope back to the TARDIS, leaving Molly looking after him. "Insane," she murmurs, shaking her head as she begins to follow him. 

*

"You're insane... completely insane."

It's not the first time she's thought that about  Sherlock Holmes, although it's one of the few times that she's said it out loud. She's always enjoyed his particular brand of lunacy though - well, most of the time, a certain Christmas party disproves the 'always' tag - and she tells herself that traveling with the Doctor prepared her well for Sherlock and his idiosyncrasies. 

Today though, she's not in the mood to put up with him. She's tired from working nine days straight, stomach queasy from lack of sleep and lack of food and she can't take Sherlock Holmes thinking he's the cleverest person in the world. 

Even if he might be.

He turns to her and his blue eyes give her a look of such haughty disdain that she wants to slap him. "Perhaps," he says simply. "But I'm still right."

Molly shakes her head. "No," she says, setting her jaw stubbornly. "You're not."

"Tiredness, nausea, weight gain, pale face suggesting your iron levels are being used somewhere new?"

"I have not-"

Sherlock continues as if she hasn't spoken. "Molly, it's perfectly obvious that you're pregnant, furthermore as a doctor I'd have thought you'd have worked it out before now. Although, if you're really sure you're not, would you like this coffee?"

He thrusts a steaming mug under her nose and Molly reaches for it. 

Then the smell hits her nostrils and her stomach flips and the last thing she sees before she turns away to be violently ill is the smug look in his blue eyes. 

*

For a long time, Molly felt that the men in her life were associated with the colour blue, the Doctor with his TARDIS, Sherlock with the most amazing blue eyes she's seen anywhere, on any world. 

She's always loved blue, but not so much anymore. 

Because while with the Doctor, she may have seen the wonders of the universe, with Sherlock she might have witnessed wonders of the mind, it took Greg Lestrade to bring colour into her life, to make her see just what she'd been missing. 

Every morning now a pair of brown eyes smile at her, and she smiles back as she pulls him close, runs her fingers through his silver hair. The pink of his tongue as he swipes if unconsciously over his lips as he pulls her close makes her heart beat faster and the white flash of his teeth when he laughs makes her want to laugh too. 

But it's the look on his face when a red cross appears on a white piece of plastic that means most of all. 


End file.
